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“What?” I ask, confused, my eyes blinking open.
His eyes meet mine. “My real name. It’s Jackson. Call me Jackson. I’m not Axe to you. Only Jackson.”
“Okay, Jackson.” I breathe, trying to keep my eyes from watering so I don’t ruin the moment, but my heart is racing and I feel giddy. I don’t know whether or not I want to cry with joy or jump up and down.
He inhales sharply. “Fuck, angel. That sounds so good coming from your mouth.” He rests his forehead on mine and exhales. “Do you want to talk about the baby? I have some news.”
I stare straight ahead, looking at the light slightly shining through the cracks of the door. Part of me wants to scream no. I can’t. But I also can’t never deal with it. The weight of it will stay with me forever. I also know that there are probably things that need to be done since I was out for a week.
I very slowly nod but reach out and grab his hand, intertwining our fingers and holding on for dear life as if his hand alone will save me from falling.
“Okay, we take this as slow as you want. You decide you’ve had enough for the day, and you tell me.”
I nod again, my mouth refusing to work.
“Would you like to know what the gender was?” I slowly nod yet again, squeezing my eyes shut. “I need your words and your eyes, angel.”
I open my eyes, looking up at his face. With how close we are, I can just barely make out his eyes scanning my face. That gives me the confidence to whisper, “Yes.”
He kisses me softly before dropping his head and whispering in my ear, “It was a girl.”
My entire body shakes as a broken sob comes out. It’s uncontrollable, like I am breaking into a million little pieces. My little girl. My sweet baby girl.
Ax—Jackson—holds me tightly. Whispering sweet words to me while allowing me to break. “I’ve got you. No matter what, I have you.”
I let myself fall apart and trust that Jackson will help put me back together again. Stronger this time.
Waking up the next morning, it feels as if my body is screaming at me. Every time I move or try to adjust myself, my skin pulls where it is stitched back together from all of Ben’s slices and stabs. Looking down I stare at the white bandages wrapped around my arms where there are stitches underneath. I lift the blanket and move my hospital gown to stare at my abdomen and legs. They are stapled up and bandaged as well.
What will my body look like after everything is healed? The thought of having these reminders all over my skin for the rest of my life is daunting. Thinking about how in ten years I will look in the mirror and be reminded of this time… it’s not something I ever want to experience.
The door opens, and Jackson walks in, two coffees in hand and a bag. He gives me a soft smile when he notices I am awake. “Hey, angel. I grabbed coffee and food. I think a doctor is coming to see you soon, so you should eat before then.”
He sets down the food and hands me my coffee.
“Is this from the diner?” I ask.
He grins and nods. “Yep. I got Raven to put together things you like.” He glances up at me from where he stands next to the bed. “Is that alright? Are you okay? I can get something else if—”
I shake my head and try to give him a real smile. “No. It’s perfect. Thank you.” Vomit rises in my throat as I force myself to take a bite of the breakfast in front of me and drink the coffee he brought me. It’s not the food. I love the food from the diner, but I only every kept going to get their food so much because of my sweetling.
My heart cracks even more as I force myself to eat something so I don’t have to explain this to Jackson. He is doing so much for me; I don’t want to put more on his plate.
A few minutes later, there is a knock on the door before it is slowly pushed open, and a middle-aged woman walks in, one with long auburn hair and large bright blue eyes. She gives me a kind smile as she walks towards me.
“Presley?” she asks, and I nod. “Hi, I’m Dr. Wells, but you can call me Annie. I am one of the hospitals psychologists. After a trauma like the one you’ve been through, we have certain protocols we need to go through before you can be released when the doctor says you are healthy enough to go home. So if you are feeling up to it, we can talk now. Or I can come back tomorrow morning.”
I open my mouth to tell her I would love to talk to her, but no words come out. Instead, I just remember how my parents pulled from therapy after only a handful of sessions because it was distasteful to be in therapy. Or how Ben always told me I didn’t need to go talk to someone when I could just talk to him. Therapy of any kind was frowned upon.
“Presley? Do you want me to step out so you can talk alone? Or I can stay. The choice is yours. I won’t be upset either way,” Jackson says, nothing but concern in his eyes.
Therapy of any kindwasfrowned upon. My life is different now, and Jackson isn’t going to be upset. At least, not for a hospital psychologist.
I squeeze his hand that is resting on the rail of the bed. “I—“ even though I know what I want, the words don’t come out. I can’t ask him because I don’t want to upset him.
But instead, he just gives me a soft smile and stands from the chair he was sitting in. “I’ll be in the hall.” He kisses my forehead and walks out of the room with his coffee in hand.
Annie takes the seat that Jackson just left and opens her notebook. “Alright, Presley, if you have anything you’d like to talk about or any questions, we can do that first. Otherwise, today I will just ask a few questions and then we will meet again a few times before you are released.” She speaks softly, her voice smooth and clear. That, along with her kind eyes, helps me relax enough to talk to her.
